Sunday Snippet: Why We Fight

Happy Mother's Day to all the moms, mentors, and mother figures out there! Enjoy the day, and if it's a hard day to celebrate, take care of you.

Another wildly busy work week but a lot of projects moved ahead and some were completed. One contrary work thing took an unexpected turn and I'll be trying to figure that one out later today.

Had a decent week of viewing despite the busy schedule. I made it through a full round of my shows, minus one—Dark Winds—because it's not on the streaming service I have anymore. I think it's on another one, but I've been too busy to track it down.

Started the week off with Brokenwood Mysteries. This one ended up being a lot of fun with a couple of interesting secrets being revealed. Truly hope to see more of Trudy and Ray's mom.

Watched another episode of Death in Paradise and enjoyed the mystery. Really not sure what Neville's DI friend is doing on the island but have a feeling it's not going to mean anything good.

Loved the Beyond Paradise holiday special for this past Christmas. I'm looking forward to diving into the rest of the season when it's available in the US.

Enjoyed another episode of Elementary. Interesting to get some backstory of Sherlock's time under the influence. Also intriguing that he stayed somewhat in the background. I like that kind of character progress.

Watched another episode of Batman Beyond and didn't really have any recollection about this one. I did enjoy seeing Terry use his Batman moves while out of the costume.

Caught another episode of Classic Rugrats and enjoyed both vignettes. I didn't remember either of them so more new-to-me stuff.

That's pretty much it for the life update this week. Tonight's post is from Why We Fight, a novella that puts a spin on the enemies-to-lovers trope.

Here's the miniblurb:

Emmett Barley, an embedded investigative reporter, pushes Pier Luphen, the squadron leader, for honest answers about the war they're fighting. She tries to take the status quo, but Emmett won't have it. He's heard the military party line his entire life and he wants the truth or nothing. He also wants Pier, but she's not willing to compromise her mission regardless of how she feels about Emmett.

And a sneaky peek…

After a full week with the unit, Emmett had some ideas for stories. "Right. Filling half a notebook is more than a few…" Of course, some of his notes could be considered fiction about a certain liaison officer.

When a knock sounded at his door, he tucked the booklet into his satchel.

He blinked in surprise to find Pier outside with two dinner trays. "Um, hi." Stepping back, he motioned for her to enter.

She flashed a quick smile. "Thought I'd return the favor and bring supper." Handing one of the entrees over, she arched her brows. "Unless you had other plans or would rather eat alone."

He shook his head. "I'd like company. Thanks for this." He cleared space on the small desk and pulled up an extra chair.

Pier took a seat and removed the cover from her plate. "I didn't interrupt anything, did I?" Her gaze landed on his open satchel.

Emmett's lips curved. "Not really. I was going through my preliminary notes, trying to settle on a topic for my first report." The aroma of baked steak wafted from his tray. "Ah … this brings back memories of joining my dad for meals at the base mess hall whenever my mom had other plans.

Pier chuckled. "It's probably the one meal every branch of the armed forces makes just a little bit differently, but they can't possibly screw up." She nodded toward his notebook. "What are some of your ideas for stories?"

He took a bite of food, trying to decide which one to discuss first. "I'd like to do a series about how the joint forces keep track of everything. You know, receiving supplies, filling the orders, then scheduling the transports to get goods delivered." The sheer magnitude of allotments, from food, clothing, and weapons to hospital supplies and aid station equipment, could be mind-boggling.

And this hub handled more than half of the requisitions. Not to mention the protection of the base, personnel, and transport units en route to the various substations and ships they were supplying.

Pier's brows furrowed. "Not exactly scintillating stuff." She stuffed a forkful of green beans into her mouth.

Emmett shrugged. "Maybe it's not guts and guns, but if something happens here to halt getting the supplies out, the ripple effect could be catastrophic." Which made for an interesting story with a human-interest angle.

Pier cocked her head to one side. "I'm a little pissed I have to revise my opinion on reporters because of you. You're definitely not like the jackass glory-seeking hound we just got rid of."

Emmett huffed out a breath. "Um, thanks. I think." He jabbed at her a little. "Pretty sure it wouldn't take much to improve your low opinion of reporters though."

She laughed. "Okay, true. But seriously, you already got points for not bringing a wardrobe of flashy clothes to the middle of a warzone."

Emmett rolled his eyes. "When the reporter puts themselves at the center of the story, they're no longer reporting. They're playacting on a stage." His dad and brothers would flip if Emmett ever dreamed of doing something so stupid.

Pier gave a slow nod. "Very aptly put."

They dug back into their dinner and ate in companionable silence.

Once they finished, he cleared away the dishes and set them by the door. "Do you have to report for duty or are you free for a while?" He hoped she'd stick around.

Pier shook her head. "I'm off for the night." She took a spot on the small two-seater couch.

Emmett retrieved a bottle from his footlocker. "Would you care for some?" He held up a glass.

Pier shrugged. "Sure. I don't report until the afternoon watch." She kicked her feet out and crossed them at the ankles.

He placed a tumbler on the camp stool to her left, and he settled next to her. "I heard some rumblings about the action moving closer. Will that affect your incoming or outgoing shipments?" He mainly wondered if the closer proximity would throw a cog in a well-oiled machine.

Pier studied him for a long moment. "Can I request to be off the record?"

He narrowed his eyes. "You still don't trust me?" So much for making headway.

She tsked. "It's not that. It's because I trust you that I'm asking for it to be off the record." She waited a beat. "What I'm going to share is classified."

Well, hell … he didn't see that one coming. "Consider yourself off the record."

She leaned in and pitched her voice low. "The shipments won't be affected. Part of what we do on our transport runs is gather intel and fortify our perimeters. We don't deviate from our schedule for that reason." She met and held his gaze, saying the unspoken part with her eyes.

They weren't just a supply hub. They ran covert ops from this location.

He exhaled slowly. "Shit." Amazed that she did trust him, he let the truth sink into him. "Okay. No wonder you wanted to be off the record. I don't blame you. That's a powder keg of information." And he'd have to sit on it for the time being.

She made a bit of a promise. "It is, and if this ends up in some sound byte I'll come for you. Doesn't matter where you are or who your family is." She picked up her drink and drained the glass. "Just saying." Putting the tumbler back on the stool, she held his gaze again.

He read a lot in her eyes. She put herself on the hot seat. He could break this story and lay open the true purpose of this facility for the entire planet to see. But he understood the importance of the mission too much to do anything underhanded like that. And he respected her and the trust she'd placed in him to not violate his promise.

Taking a chance, he cupped her face. "I do not break confidences." His thumbs stroked her cheeks. "Or go back on my word." Leaning in, he tested the bond further by brushing his lips over hers.

He didn't mean for the kiss to spiral out of control, but she opened her mouth, and he slipped his tongue past her teeth. She made a low moan and fisted her hand in his shirt. Okay, he hadn't imagined the crackle of attraction between them.

He didn't know who came up for air first, but he dragged oxygen into his lungs and leaned in again.

She backed away and held up a hand. "Sorry. That should not have happened." She got up and paced back and forth.

He narrowed his eyes. "I'm not sorry it did."

She worried on her lower lip. "I'm not either. I'll admit my curiosity got the better of me." She met his gaze. "But this isn't a good idea. I'm responsible for your safety and getting involved more than we already are can muddy things up." A frustrated sigh escaped her lips.

He pushed back a little. "So, it's not one-sided? There's something here between us." He got to his feet and motioned between them.

She gave a jerky nod. "There could be … if you weren't you and I wasn't me."

He didn't like the answer, but he understood. "I can accept that. But, for the record, if you weren't who you are and I wasn't who I am … we'd be great together in—"

She held up a hand again. "Don't. Don't say it." She scooted past him, pushed the door open, and angled her head around. "Also, for the record? I'm not disagreeing." She ducked out before he could formulate a response.

Which … all things considered … gave him more fictional ideas to imagine.

Very happy with how this scene came together. These characters are a lot of fun to write.

 

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flipside.

ML Skye